


Melancholy Hill.

by Amara_Gray



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amara_Gray/pseuds/Amara_Gray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to the Mortal Instruments. Matthew Adlershade was seven years old when his parents were killed by The Circle. When Mayrse and Robert Lightwood were exiled from Idris, The Clave decided to add further punishment. Forcing them to take in the three children that they helped to orphan. Now seventeen years old and training to be a Shadowhunter, Matthew prides himself on two things. Protecting his younger sister Faye and his parabatai Liam and looking after the Lightwood's new baby son. Alexander. But with strange unexplained deaths circulating the supernatural underworld of New York, protecting the one's he cares about is getting increasingly harder. (Large OC's. No pairings with canon characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who's been reading it so far! I shall have an update soon hopefully!

Prolouge 

 

1990\. Manhattan Subway.

 

David Evansdale allowed his foot to come to rest on the dusty brown concrete of the platform as he stepped off the ten o’clock subway. The ground there was littered with white specks of chewing gum and littered fast food bags. The air smelt of urine; and David made a mental note that he would be breathing through his mouth from now on. In all honesty it had been a tough day, and he was looking forward to nothing more than going home and settling down for the night with a Luke-warm cup of tea. With a small sigh, David looked down at his watch as he walked to the other platform. If this train took any longer than it was supposed to he was pretty sure he’d do something illegal. Whether it would be to someone else or himself he wasn’t too sure yet.

The dull ringing of his phone alerted him as he sat on the concrete bench in the corner of the platform. He had been staring intently at the tunnel that the subway was supposed to be slithering out of any time soon. But all he was met with were shadows. There were no headlights, like gleaming eyes in the murky blackness. No purity in this never ending hole of thick, slimy heat. Hesitantly, he reached in to his pocket and pulled out his phone. Mobile phones themselves were in their early days, which meant that when David held the device to his ear it out lengthened his entire jaw. “David Evansdale.” He groaned out. It was never a simple ‘Hello’ these days. It was always just David Evansdale. It was like stating his name and rank every single time he was ever contacted. Because in his sad little life, the only ones that ever contacted him were the ones that wanted him to do something. Something for their own benefits and nothing else. But this time, it was different. It was his wife. Eleanor. 

“Davie thank god you picked up! L-Listen to me! You can’t come home! Pro—Promise me you won’t come home! Please!” She was in hysterics, David could almost hear her lungs groaning for air as she panicked down the line to him, nearly hyperventilating with every word. David felt the hairs on the back of his neck slowly stand on end. “El? Ellie what is it? Calm down! Baby, what’s wrong?!” He demanded, and despite himself; David felt panic rise up in his own chest.  
“They’re…They’re co—Davy you have to promise me that you don’t come home. Oh god you’re not at home are you?! Please tell me you’re not at home—“  
“Ellie. I’m at the subway station. I’m…I’m not going to be home for another twenty minutes. What the hell is going on?” David demanded his wife, his knuckles whitening as his grip on his briefcase handle tightened. Suddenly he wished that he wasn’t the only one on the platform. “Ellie for fucks sake talk to me!”  
“David if you come home and I’m there? It’s…It’s not me! You have to believe me when I tell you this! It is not me!” David could hear her running footsteps, her breath catching in her throat as she turned her head to look over her shoulder, heard it jutter as she tripped over her feet and staggered back in to balance. 

 

“Ellie…” As always, concern soon faded in to annoyance. “Eleanor is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to be funny? Because I’m not laughing!” David had always known that his wife was a prankster, it was one of the reasons why he fell in love with her so quickly when they were at University together. But there was a line, and she had thrown herself over it. Ellie didn’t reply. The only sound on the other end of the line was her running footsteps. This further fuelled David’s accusations. “Ellie goddammit you’ve really pissed me off now.” He spat harshly, his briefcase dropping to the ground. He dropped to his knees after it, pushing the papers back in to the tattered leather case as he muttered obscenities under his breath.  
“Please don’t come home.” She pleaded a final time before the connection dropped and David was met with the indistinct and repetitive beeping noise that informed him that the call with his wife had in fact ended. The businessman was still on his knees, slowly pulling his chunky mobile phone away from his ear, staring down at it in a numb confusion. David tried to swallow, but found that his throat was dry. He didn’t lift his head, even when his salt and pepper fringe was blown in to his face as his train rattled past.

Looking back on the night, David wondered why he didn’t call the police right away. But he never did. And he never knew why. Missing his train meant that it was the bus home for him. Which meant that he had to stand on the deserted street of Manhattan. Not even the youths were wandering around on a night like this. Most people would feel more at ease standing alone in a street at night than standing at a subway station alone. Street lights to light the way, cars coming past every now and then. But to David it was a different matter. He felt better in the secluded heat of the subway that up here in the open air. He occupied himself with watching the rain fall, ricocheting off the pavement and splashing in to puddles. He had tried calling the home line three times. And all he got was their answer machine. Ellie’s voice. Hi this is David and Ellie! Sorry we can’t make it to the phone right now! Feel free to leave a message! He was sitting on the bus in silence. Hi this is David and Ellie! Sorry we can’t make it to the phone right now! Feel free to leave a message! He mumbled thanks to the bus driver as he got off at his stop. Hi this is David and Ellie! He opened their gate slowly, not even passing a second glance at their mail box, the little red flag pointing up to assure David that the postman had actually come on time for once this morning. It probably wasn’t anything interesting. Most likely bills. Sorry we can’t make it to the phone right now!

David paused at the doorstep, slowly turning his head to look at the mailbox again. The rain was still pattering down on the ground, the gate hitting against the fence angrily in the gusting wind. Why was the post still in the mail box? Ellie always checked the post in the mornings. It wasn’t like she would have missed it. Barney wouldn’t have stopped barking at her if she didn’t check the post. His keys wet in his hand, the middle aged Father of two looked back at his front door, at the dripping holly wreath that was hanging above him. What if she wasn’t joking? What if there really was something wrong?  
“Don’t be stupid.” He muttered to himself as he turned his keys in the lock.

Feel free to leave a message! 

“Hi Honey!” Ellie smiled at her husband from where she was at the kitchen counter, cutting up some cucumber slices. David’ eyes glanced over the dirty dishes stacked next to the sink, slowly trailing down to Barnaby who was curled up in his bed. “How was work?” Ellie asked again, lifting her head to look at her husband once more. She was a small built woman, petite was the phrase she preferred. Her hair was like satin sand whenever he ghosted his fingertips over her locks as they lay together. When he didn’t reply, she smiled, gesturing with the knife to the frying pan. “Stir fry for dinner. Your Mum’s recipe. I just got off the phone to her. We actually had a full conversation for once….” Her face was slowly falling. “What is it? Davie?”  
“I’m just trying to figure it out.” He said slowly, as he rested his briefcase down on the floor. “Why you would want to scare me.” He said hollowly, slowly shaking his head. Ellie frowned. “…What?”  
“Why you of all people would want to scare the crap out of me.” He said incredulously. Ellie set the knife down on the table, looking confronted. She always was fiery when she knew he was in the wrong. “What the hell are you talking about David?”  
“The phone call.” He snapped. “Did you think you were being funny? Scaring the shit outta me?! I had a shit day, El! Not in the mood!”  
“Excuse me?!” Ellie’s voice raised as his did, about to snap something back before the sound of his mobile phone ringing cut her off. Ellie shook her head, turning back to cutting up the vegetables for the stir fry. Maybe what the magazines said was true. Maybe these new Mobile Phone things really were turning people crazy. Messing with their brains.

David was staring at the landline phone, on the wall in the corner of the large kitchen. Near the fridge. Where it had always been. He looked down at his mobile, hesitantly answering it and holding it to his ear once again. “Hello?” He didn’t even register that he hadn’t started the call with his name. He was too confused and angry to marvel at that fact.  
“Tell me you’re not home.” Ellie whispered, the hysteria had gone now. She was speaking on a breath just below a mumble. Just loud enough for him to hear when he strained his ears. “Who is this?” He demanded. “Tell me you’re not home.”  
“I’m at home.” David finally admitted. Ellie turned to face him now, the anger gone from her eyes, concern replacing them. “Oh god!” The voice on the other end of the phone sobbed. “You have to get outta there! She’s going to kill you!” The voice blubbed. David gritted his teeth. “You know, I don’t even know who the fuck this is but this conversation is over. How the hell are you calling me?”  
“I’m at a payphone, David! Please for fuck’s sake get out of there! She’s going to kill you!!”  
“Fuck off.” David muttered lowering the phone to end the call, but her voice stopped him, still pleading on the other end of the line. “You never told me you loved me until we’d known each other for six years!” She blurted out, causing David to slowly raise the phone to his ear again. “You never told me because you thought that I would find you boring, David. You thought I’d laugh at you because you were nearly 25 and you were still a virgin. Who else would know that?! Tell me!”  
Ellie was walking towards him slowly, knife in hand, head cocked to the side. “David? David what’s going on? Shall I call the police? Sweetie you’re scaring me…”  
“She isn’t human David! I know this doesn’t sound real but baby you have to leave! Run away! She’s going to kill you!!” It was a scream this time, a scream that caused David to jump in to action, adrenalin coursing through his veins. “Get away from me!” He yelled, his phone clattering on to the floor as he thrusted his hands out, pushing Ellie back. The knife went jagged, slashing the side of her throat, her blood sprayed out across his face.

 

Everything seemed to slow down then. No matter what he had heard…this thing…still looked like his wife. Still looked like his sweet Ellie. His hands clamped down over the cut as she stared up at him in horror, her knees finally going weak. He never let her fall to the ground. He fell with her, holding her close to his chest as he dropped to his knees. Her blood was oozing between his knuckles, his white shirt soaking up the life dependant liquid. “El…” He whispered, the tears coming. He wanted to be sick. Oh god, he wanted to be sick. He stared down at her, watching her life slowly ebb away from her. “Ellie…Ellie no…oh fuck…o-oh god…” It isn’t her. It isn’t her. Oh god, my baby girl is out there somewhere...terrified. She needs me. Oh my baby…He made a move to drop the imposter’s body on to the ground, though something flashing in the lights caught his eye.  
What he saw next chilled him to the very core. A ring. On her forefinger. The very one that he had given to her this morning. Before the phone call. Before he went to work. For their anniversary. The phone was still connected to the call, as it lay in a pool of Eleanor Evansdale’s blood. A small laugh echoed from the receiver, before it escalated higher and higher in to hysteria. Making David’s blood run cold. The fear was gone when the speaker spoke next. All that David could hear, as he stared down at his wife’s dead corpse, was a tone of triumph and victory. 

“….Gotcha.”


	2. Chapter One.

Is all that we see or seem/ but a dream within a dream?  
-Edgar Allan Poe, A Dream Within A Dream.

Matthew Adlershade was always a kind hearted boy. Hodge Starkweather had noticed this a few days after they had arrived at the New York Institute for the first time. Exile was better than sentence, it seemed. Running a hand through his salt and peppered brittle hair, Hodge made his way down the large marble hallways of the cold building he had yet to start referring to as his abode. When he thought about it, they had been the lucky ones. Some of Valentine’s other followers hadn’t been as fortunate as them. “Matthew.” The newly appointed tutor called down the hallway. “Do hurry yourself, young man. You need to go and wish a safe journey to Maryse and Robert.” He glanced over his shoulder, allowing a small and brief smile to cross his lips momentarily at the sight of the young child. Matthew was dark haired lad with eyes that were such a mixed green they were almost turquoise in the right light. He had been lying on his front, fussing over Church –Clearly more loving in his old day-, at the sound of his tutor’s voice, the boy rose to his feet obediently. “Yes Mr Starkweather.” He answered cheerily. “I told you son, Hodge. Hodge will be just fine.” The man reminded the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder before he allowed him to run ahead. “Try and find your sister!” He shouted after him.

After a moment of watching him run off, the middle aged man turned in to the Library. He smiled ever so slightly when he saw the boy. Sitting in his armchair with a book that was ten times bigger than his whole body in his lap. Liam Darkstrike had always had potential as far as Hodge was concerned. It could have been because the lad reminded him of himself, not that he was vain or anything. A little different. Not as normal and wondrous as the rest of their kind were bigged up to be. It wasn’t every day that one stumbled across an Albino Shadowhunter now, was it? Smiling back at the pink eyes that were watching him through a curtain of white hair, Hodge leant against the counter. “Liam. What on earth are you reading?”  
“Codex.” The little boy answered simply, closing the heavy book with a satisfying thunk. With any other child, Hodge would have come to the conclusion that the book was open sorely for the use of looking at the odd pictures. But not with Liam. He knew that the boy was reading it. Taking in every single word like he had done with half of the library already. After checking his pocket watch the man spoke again. “…We need to go and wish Maryse and Robert a safe journey. Come along.”  
“Are they taking Baby Alexander with them this time?” Liam asked, sliding out of the chair. Hodge shook his head after a moment’s thought. “…No I’m afraid they have to leave Alexander here this time.”  
“Again?”  
“Again,”

 

“Alec?” Maryse cooed as she looked back over her shoulder. “Alexander where on earth have you gotten to?” She asked herself with a little sigh. She looked up at her husband when he entered the room, in his best suit. Dark blue with a lighter blue trim. It wasn’t exactly something Magnus Bane would do a second glance at but it was something. “Have you seen Alexander, dear?” Maryse asked after a moment of looking around the kitchen. The expression on Robert’s face told her that now wasn’t the time to be dawdling. Especially when the Gard were expecting them so soon. “I just thought it would be nice to say goodbye to him, Robert.” Maryse muttered as she walked out of the kitchen, her tone clearly nettled. “Seeing as he is our son.”  
The problem with living somewhere as large as The Institute was the fact that there were so many rooms and corridors. It didn’t surprise Maryse that the Fair Folk tended to call it the Castle in the Urban Forest. A tad over dramatic in her opinion but this was the Fair Folk for you. Eventually, it was the sound of the television drifting across the hallway that caught her ear; and sure enough, four little forms were sitting on the floor in front of the tattered couch, watching the small television (the only one the Institute had at the time) with intent and awe-filled gazes. Matthew, Liam and Faye. The three children that her husband and herself had been charged with the care of. Because it was their own actions that had caused the three to have become orphans in the first place. For some time, Maryse just stood in the doorway and watched, the side of her head slowly coming to rest on the doorframe.

There was Matthew and Faye Adlershade, all dark hair and bright eyes. Brother and sister, holding hands as always. And Liam Darkstrike. Peculiar boy. Sitting cross legged on the floor with them a book in his lap. Occasionally, the white haired boy would lift his head and gaze at the television set. What on earth has Hodge put on for them this time? Maryse thought to herself, her face turning sour at the thought of perfectly allegeable children of the nephilim being brainwashed by something as ridiculous as Mundane media. She took a small step in to the room, offering Liam an awkward smile when his pink eyes darted her way and gazed at her for a moment. “…What are you three watching then?” She asked in a tone that was oddly soft, for someone like Maryse. Faye spoke, all rosy cheeked and cheerful. “Matty put it on! It’s called The Little Mermaid!” The six year old chimed, clapping her hands. Maryse watched the screen in confusion for a moment or two, before she voiced her question. “…Why is there a lobster singing?”  
“Mermaids were actually first rumoured by old English folklore. They used to drag sailors down to their deaths from their fishing boats. I think they’re a sister breed of Sirens.” Liam explained out of no-where, brushing his white fringe from his eyes. Matthew looked to the other boy with a look in his eyes that seemed to depict a grudge. “…Liam. She’s six.”  
“It’s the facts.”  
Matt had been about to reply with something along the lines of sticking his tongue out at Liam, when a little boy plopped in to his lap. With a growing smile the boy looked down at the small toddler in his lap. “Oh. Hello Alec.” He mumbled, letting the one year old wrap his little fingers around his thumb and shake his hand about. “Are you going to watch it too?” He asked softly. The little boy let go of his thumb, reaching up with young, unscarred chubby hands to grab and bat and his cheeks. Matt just gave a giggle, looking up at Maryse. “Mrs Lightwood…l-look!” He pleaded with a grin, turning to look at her for a moment. Maryse had a pained look on her face, though she forced a smile and nodded. All of a sudden she knew the thoughts behind the Inquisitor’s added sentence. She’d have to watch as her own child grew close to the ones she helped orphan. They have no idea. She thought to herself as she watched the three children. Matthew playing with Alec—her little Alec. Faye singing loudly to ‘Under The Sea’ and Liam lying on his front, brushing his hand through Church’s fur as he read yet another large and leather-bound book. They have no idea that we were the ones that helped to murder their parents. Oh Raziel I was so blind. So, so blind… She slowly rested her head in her hand, forcing herself in to composure. “Maryse.”  
It was her husband’s words that rose her from her thoughts. With a small nod, Maryse stood, the light green dress clinging to her plump body. She still hadn’t quite got back in to the swing of things after giving birth to Alec. She walked over, lifting her one year old son in to her arms. Alec looked up at his Mother with rich sapphire eyes, floppy black hair already in a mop on his head before he slowly snuggled in to her chest, one hand clutching the necklace around her neck. Maryse slowly pressed her lips to his forehead. “Mummy will be home soon my darling.” She whispered brokenly; trying her hardest to rid her voice of the tremble in her throat. Alec blinked up at her, still sucking away on his pacifier as a little fist rubbed at his eyes sleepily. Robert ran a hand through his son’s hair before he looked to his wife. His eyes telling her what his mouth did not. He looked back at the three orphans. “You all behave, now. Am I understood?”  
“Yes Mr Lightwood.” Came the obedient chant from all three of the young Shadowhunters. Robert caught both Liam and Matthew’s eyes. “Especially you two. You both have a big day ahead of you.”

And with that, Robert and Maryse made their exits. After a moment’s thought, Matthew clambered up on to the sofa with Liam, kneeling up and looking over the back of it at Hodge, who was reading in his chair. “…Hodge?”  
“Yes young man?”  
“Where are me and Liam going tomorrow?” He asked, one hand propping his head up as the do-eyed boy looked to the Tutor for answers. Even Liam had lifted his head at this, looking over with mild interest. Hodge closed his book, slowly brushing his fingers through Hugo’s sleek black feathers. “Somewhere very important. You’re both going to The Gard—“  
“I thought that was where Mr and Mrs Lightwood went?” Liam asked, walking over to stand next to the slightly taller boy at his side. For a moment Hodge just gazed at the two of them; at the curiosity in Matthew’s face and the seriousness in Liam’s, they truly were as different as their hair colours. “You’re both going for different reasons. A very special occasion so I expect you both to be washed and in your best clothes in the morning.” To Hodge’s surprise, it was Liam that cottoned on, looking down at his left hand. “…We’re getting our first marks aren’t we? The Voyance rune. So we can see things.” Liam mumbled in a knowing tone that cause Matthew’s confused look to be turned to him instead. Liam pointed to the top of his hand. “It goes there. Do you have one, Sir?” The albino boy’s eyes turned to look at Hodge once more. Hodge nodded, raising his hand to show them, which invoked child-like murmurs of awe. “Does it hurt?”

He knew that question would come sooner or later. With a small sigh that showed his real age, Hodge gave a small nod. “Only for a short while. But the Voyance rune lasts a lifetime. You’ll always be able to see what others wish to remain concealed.” He whispered, leaning forward in his seat. “Something that the great angel Raziel gifted Jonathan Shadowhunter and his men when he was summoned to aid their fight against the darkness. A fight that still continues today. One that constantly needs soldiers. Like the two of you will soon be. Faye and Alexander too, when they come of age.” With that said, Hodge sat back in his chair and opened his book again, satisfied at the inspired looks on the boy’s faces. Sometimes it was better to cloud them with folklore than to let them know the truth about the world that they lived in. At the sound of her name, Faye wandered over. Both Matthew and Faye were worryingly similar when it came to looks. Dark hair and light eyes, an odd contrast when he thought about it. “Matty!” She greeted, hugging her brother’s waist tightly. Matt just smiled, lifting her on to his hip before they went back to stroking Hugo’s feathers carefully. The bird looked flustered at first, like it was ready to strike the oblivious children. But its movements were stilled from a dark look from the dishonest Shadowhunter.

Hodge couldn’t help but notice that she was the spitting image of her Mother when they were younger. Freya Adlershade. Oh how beautiful her Mother was. Though she went by the name of Freya Nightwine at the time. Hodge slowly allowed his eyes to close. 

He was sitting down nervously at his desk. Some lecture from The Gray Book on a dull day in the Academy. Maryse Trueblood sat at the desk in front of him, flirting with Robert Lightwood as always. Never paying attention to what was being taught. He remembered thinking to himself how on earth rich families like the Trueblood and the Lightwoods could afford to have children that were so unobservant and disrespectful in their lectures. Perhaps the money covered that too? Having children that were completely useless? A laugh from the back of the room caused him to turn his head ever so slightly. Valentine Morgenstern, chuckling away at something the teacher had said about Downworlders that he found amusing. And there she was. Freya Nightwine. Sitting at the desk next to Jocelyn Fairchild. Sharing smiles and chancing glances over at the handsome boy that was sitting at the back of the room with his feet on the desk. Hodge felt himself sigh. No boy in the Academy would ever be so popular with the girls than Valentine Morgenstern. Especially not someone like Hodge. But there was Freya. Smiling. Smiling at him. She gave a small wave and a mumble of “Hi Hodge.” And he felt his stomach do somersaults. As far as he was concerned he was just some skinny poor boy with bent glasses with only books for company. But she was talking to him.   
“H-Hi Freya…”

Their months at the Academy went on. He grew closer to Valentine and the rest of the crowd of popular kids. Of course, he had no idea that most of the conversations they had with him were sorely so they could entertain themselves. He was their pet. The poor boy that lived in the Mill with his Mother and Father. But still, he was allowed to sit with them all at the back of the classroom. Anything if it meant he could sit closer to her. She’d always talk to him when they were working, pointing out where he had made some mistakes with his runes, asking him how his day was. Valentine had always chided that Hodge was head over heels. Right when she was there to hear it. “Oh look. The poor thing is smitten.” Amongst the laughs and jeers of the group, as Hodge had looked away, hugging his books closer to his chest. He remembered catching a brief glance of Freya, how the wind that was picked up by the canals blew her mousey brown hair as she stood on the bridge, looking at him. Her brows knitted together in concern. He couldn’t look at her. He just couldn’t. Hodge had never run home faster in his life. He remembered stopping by the wall at the corner of the Accords Hall, looking back. Freya was at the bottom of the arch bridge now, hazel eyes scanning around, trying to see where he had run to. She was worried. Maybe she really did care about him. Maybe Valentine was wrong for once.   
“Hodge? Hodge where are you? Please don’t run off like that! You know how worried I get!” She called out, and even now, he could hear it echoing in his ears. Valentine had looked up from where he was chatting in depth with Robert Lightwood, his arm around Jocelyn’s waist as always. He had looked up at Freya’s call. “Freya.” He tilted his chin up when he said her name. When she did not respond he spoke a little louder. “Freya!” She turned her head finally then, her hair still whipping about in the soft wind. He jerked his head to side, back to the other group. ‘He’s treating her like a dog’ Hodge had thought. ‘How could he treat her like that?’ “Come back over here, Freya.” Valentine beckoned in his usual calm voice. “Come and meet a friend of mine. Albert Adlershade.”

He would always remember that as the day that she walked right out of his life. Albert was always so much better than him. In ways that Hodge could only dream of. Kind, compassionate, accepting. Hodge did wonder how on earth Valentine grew to call him ‘friend’ when they were in fact complete opposites. He watched from where he was standing, at the corner of the road. He watched as Albert, fair and approachable, took her hand and brought it to his lips. How she blushed. Oh how Hodge had wanted to make her blush like that.

The Ball. At the Accords Hall. Their graduation ball. She looked absolutely beautiful. He had been right in thinking that purple was definitely her colour. Her hair was plaited and woven with flowers. Oh, he had never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. She had danced with him. Freya had actually danced with him. Hodge had never felt more content than that moment. He had told her she was beautiful. And she had blushed. He had finally made her blush.   
“Freya…I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”  
“Oh, I have too Hodge.” Freya had said back to him, doe-eyed and trusting. They were dancing together, much to the entertainment of Valentine from where he was watching in the corner, smirking to himself. Hodge had looked down at his feet, making sure that they were still moving in time. The last thing that he wanted to do was to step on her feet. “Oh, you go first.” The bespectacled boy had mumbled. Freya had smiled at him once more, supressing a small chuckle when Albert pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Albert has asked me to marry him. Isn’t that wonderful?” She beamed, looking up at Hodge with adoring eyes. Eyes that were full of excitement. “And we’re….Hodge we’re having a baby together. He’s the one.” She smiled, leaning back in to Albert as he circled his arms around her waist. “I’ve finally found the one, Hodge.”

Knocking on their door. Years later. Hearing her soft humming as she stopped stirring the soup in the kitchen and wandered over to the door. How she had smiled at him when she saw him, hugged his neck with a laugh and shouted to her husband that Hodge was here. Her dearest friend. Who she hadn’t seen for nearly four years. How wonderful it was to see him. She had no idea. What he was here to do. What he had been sent to do. How she had stroked a hand across the scar on his face that shot like silk through his cheek. How she had asked with concerned eyes what on earth had happened to him.

He was heartbroken. When he was told that she did something as ludicrous as sympathise with Downworlders. His perfect girl brainwashed by this…this horrid excuse for a nephilim. Needless to say, Valentine was outraged at their ‘treachery’ and had already summoned a price on their heads. The same went for the likes of Helen and Glyn Darkstrike.

Her screams as her husband was stabbed over and over again. How she had sobbed and wailed his name as she fell to her knees in Robert Lightwood’s arms. How she had screamed that “By the sake of the angel please don’t hurt my babies!” How she had looked at him in complete horror. He had stumbled over to her, trying something—anything to explain to her. But she had looked at him like he was a monster. Valentine had already driven the blade home by now, causing her head to jerk back. Blood to spurt from her ruby red lips. No honours were said. No ‘Hail and Farewell’ ‘s. Valentine had just muttered something about wasted precious blood.

He had still sat with her in his lap as their house burnt. Rocking her in his arms. “…Freya. Oh Freya why couldn’t you understand? What you mean to me? Why did you have to side with them they couldn’t do anything for you. They can’t even protect their own…Freya…I loved you...”

It was Hugo that woke him from his stressed slumber, cawing and pecking at the window. Hodge sat forward in his chair for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “By the Angel…” He swore under his breath. The children, Matthew, Liam and Faye were all asleep together on the couch, Alec stretched out on Matthew’s chest. Though the little boy had two arms locked tightly around the toddler. Hodge stood and walked over to the small group, shaking Matthew quietly. “Come along little warriors.” He yawned. “In to your beds.” His voice strained slightly as he lifted Alec up, shushing the babe when he sniffled slightly. Hodge had no doubt that Liam was more than capable of taking himself to bed. So Hodge walked Matthew and Faye back to their shared room. He stared out at the glistening glow of New York from the large windows that the Institute had in each room. Hugo was still perched on his shoulder as always. There were more than enough rooms in the Institute. But neither Maryse nor Hodge himself had had the heart to tell Matthew that his sister was getting to old to share a bed with him. After all that they had been through, they could at least give them this.   
“Goodnight Hodge.” Matthew mumbled from where he was sorting Faye’s pillow out for her. Shifting Alec in his arms, Hodge leant down and ruffled Matthew’s hair awkwardly. “…Goodnight my boy.” He muttered. Faye was smiling up at him with her Mother’s doe-eyes. Hodge couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He just tucked the covers around her a little more before he tapped her nose with a false chuckle. 

As he walked away his smile was slowly fading until it was as hollow as his heart. He rested Alec in his cot without a word. Tucking the tiny blanket around him before he opened the music box that Maryse had left at the side of the cot. A simple melody. With that, Hodge walked out. Stalking back to the library to glare at the fire. Hugo cawed and swooped around the room, settling at the window and tapping his beak against the glass. With a sigh, Hodge stood. Walking over to the widow. “Already?” He muttered in distaste before he opened the window. Letting the bird fly out in to the night.   
Moongrave was the first to notice Valentine’s bird settling on the tree branch above their heads. The copper haired Shadowhunter looked over his shoulder at the sleek Bentley that had pulled up outside the Institute. A glare of distaste up at the bird leaked from his eyes before he walked the short distance across the road. Moongrave wasn’t exactly what you would call a model Shadowhunter. But he wasn’t what you would call a follower of Valentine either. The mam was practically made of facial scars, his Gear tight on his body as he swung a seraph blade around idly. When the tinted window was wound down, and smoke was breathed out, he slowed his motion. “Hugin.” He muttered, using the bird’s real name as he nodded to the tree behind him. “The Lightwoods have gone. Hodge has kept his promise.”  
A slender but masculine hand slid out of the darkness of the backseat to flick some ashes on to the pavement from his cigarette. “I can see that, Moongrave.” A well-spoken tone replied. “I’m not blind.”  
“Sir.” Moongrave grunted out in way of apology, still glaring at the bird every now and then. “Tonight, sir?”  
“I’ve had words with the others. We’ve agreed on a different approach.” The voice explained in a tone that seemed to convey that he had much better things to do with his time than to explain important things to someone as low down on the metaphorical food chain as Moongrave clearly was to him. Moongrave had a look on his face that screamed annoyance, but was hidden by dutiful and forced respect. “…So…we’re not takin’ the brats tonight, Sir?”  
“No, Moongrave. We’re not. They’re young. Much too young. And we have plenty of work to do. We need time, Moongrave.” A hand reached over to open the car door for him. “Time to plan our actions. I was foolish to think that taking them at this age would be a good idea. Very foolish. It will happen soon, my flat headed friend. But not now. Do get in. We have much to discuss.” It wasn’t an offer. Just a polite command. Moongrave wasn’t one to disobey. This was where the money was coming from after all.

 

Hugo watched the Bentley turn the corner of the street with a gleaming beaded eye, before he stretched his wings and circled the tree a few times, finally flying back to the open window and settling on his perch again for the night.


End file.
